Ooh, it’s engagement time!
The story begins just after Scott left for basic training.
He left, and a month later I left to Michigan, where I stayed with my brother and his family, helping out a bit, working remotely, all that jazz.
While Scott was in basic, he called me every Sunday. He got five minutes to call his family. He called his parents really quick, then called me and used most of his allotted time to talk to me. 🙂 I waited for those calls every week.
We also wrote letters. I wrote him a lot—a lot.
In September, he graduated basic training and he wanted me to come. So, I planned a trip with his parents. The plan was to stay in the same hotel and share a care and make things more convenient.
September came. I flew from Michigan. Scott’s parents flew from Utah. We met in the San Antonio airport and made our way to our hotel. (Side note: I love the way the freeway is built in San Antonio. Very convenient.)
The next day, we excitedly and eagerly made our way to the training base. A whole program was planned. We watched the trainees take a lap around the base. We watched the graduating ceremony. It was a little long. And I couldn’t take my eyes off my man. He looked so cute and handsome in his uniform.
Finally, at the end of the ceremony, I followed Scott’s dad from the bleachers and we went to tap him out of line so he could greet us. His hug—oh, it was one of the best hugs ever! I missed him so much. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until I was enveloped in his embrace.
And I wanted to kiss him so much!
But not yet.
We had other activities, and there was something about proper decorum in uniform, blah, blah, blah, blah.
We had fun, though, hanging out with his parents. We went to a movie—we saw Captain America—woot! We went to the riverwalk. We took a tour down the riverwalk. We saw the Alamo where we started our tradition of buying Christmas ornaments from our travels. We went to the San Antonio temple.
And we went back to the hotel room where his parents gave him some things he requested. They were leaving the next day. I would be staying a little while longer. So Scott wanted to put his things in my room and pick them up later.
In my room, I grabbed his things to put in the closet. When I turned around, he enveloped me in another embrace and kissed me—hard, like he wanted to remember that kiss forever. I don’t remember a kiss like that before or since. I almost cried. Tears welled up in my eyes. I knew with all my heart as we kissed that this was the man I wanted to be with for the rest of my life.
Are you ready for the engagement part?
Sorry. It’s not yet. Hold your horses; it’s coming.
We did, however, go look at rings. Scott wanted to know what style I liked and what my ring size was.
We decided that he would officially propose, sometime. And we would get married the next May.
I flew back to Michigan. Scott stayed in San Antonio and moved over to Fort Sam for additional training in his military career.
Fast forward to November.
I flew out to San Antonio again. Just me this time. I went for Thanksgiving. It was my favorite Thanksgiving ever!
We went to Walmart and bought thick-cut deli turkey, a pumpkin pie, some salads, orange marmalade—’cause we couldn’t find cranberry sauce. We had a little picnic at a park that was near a Japanese tea garden and the zoo—we toured as much of the area as we could; it’s one the best zoos I’ve been to.
And we snuggled and watched movies and went shopping and explored the riverwalk some more.
We talked about marriage. “Let’s move the date up to April,” we both agreed.
But no official engagement yet.
I went back to Michigan. Scott stayed in San Antonio.
Fast forward to December.
Since Scott had moved over to Fort Sam, we had upped our chats to every night over Skype. We talked about everything. There were very few lulls in our conversations. And we made a lot of plans for our wedding. I had talked brides dresses and decor with my mom. Scott told his family about his plans. Everything was out in the open. We just needed the official engagement and the ring—not a pretzel ring (see Will You Marry Me?).
Two weeks before Christmas, I moved back to Utah. During my road trip, as I was relaxing in a hotel, Scott called.
“I have some bad news,” he said.
“Oh?” I said, my heart getting nervous. I always imagine the worst.
“I’m not sure when we can get married,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“I learned that I have two more phases of training. I’ll be going to California after this and then I’ll do the rest of my training where I will be stationed in Washington state.”
My heart sunk. “How long will that be?”
“I’m not sure. But,” he said, “maybe we can figure something out and get married in the middle of that. Maybe I can get leave. And then you could be with me at the other trainings.”
My heart lifted a bit. “That would be good. I like that.”
So we planned it. Scott would fly home during President’s Day weekend in February and we would get married. We’d figure it out. What’s life without a few crazy adventures.
We just needed the the ring and official proposal for the official engagement.
A day after I got home, Scott also came back to Utah for his Christmas leave.
And, you guessed it, we spent as much time together as we could.
He made some hints about a ring. He spoke to my dad. I knew the official proposal was coming. I just wasn’t sure when or what he had planned.
Christmas Eve, I spend the evening with his family. They have a fun tradition of reading The Polar Express every year right before Christmas day.
After the story and some good visiting, Scott said, “I’m not ready to end the night. Is it okay if I take you home now but come back in half an hour and pick you up? I want to take you somewhere.”
“Okay,” I answered, getting very excited. Was this it? Was he about to propose. Half an hour was a long time to wait.
Just like Scott promised, he picked me up—in his dad’s truck. I got in the vehicle and he started toward Payson canyon.
We drove in silence, holding hands, maybe saying a few things to each other.
The night was filled with snow. The streets were lightly powdered and the road up the mountain was a winter wonderland. Knowing that most of the canyon road is usually closed during that time of year, I wondered how far we would get. Would we get to the spot where Scott and I first talked about marriage?
The roads were a little slippery, but the truck trudged on. We moved up and up and up, until we saw the barricade.
“That’s okay,” Scott said, a little disappointed. “We won’t make it all the way to the spot, but I saw a place not that far from here where we can stop.”
When we got to the spot, Scott stopped the truck, keeping it running so we could stay heated.
Nervously, he said, “Is it okay if we get out for a bit?”
“Okay,” I replied.
We both stepped out into the crisp air and the lightly falling snow. Scott gestured for me to meet him behind the truck.
There, Scott looked at me, nervously, lovingly, excitedly. He started talking. I don’t remember what he said. I think he talked about how much he loves me and how he wanted to spend forever with me.
And finally—I was listening to his words, I loved them, but this is the part I was excited about—he got down on one knee in the wet snow, held out a beautiful diamond ring, and popped the question, “Sara, will you marry me?”
“Yes. Yes!” I exclaimed.
Scott placed the ring on my finger, stood, and kissed me, lovingly, passionately, happily.
“We should get in the truck and get warm again,” he said when we parted.
We found our way back to the cab of the truck, got in, cuddled, discussed our future, kissed. We were so happy.
It was the perfect engagement. Just the two of us. Remembering the night we first talked about marriage. Talking about our future. Watching the snow fall over the mountain trees. Romantic.
And we were officially engaged. Finally.
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